<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Stepped Right In It by Bawgdan</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484891">Stepped Right In It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bawgdan/pseuds/Bawgdan'>Bawgdan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drama, F/M, Romance, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:41:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bawgdan/pseuds/Bawgdan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Proper ladies like denying that they masturbate or defecate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hisoka/Machi (Hunter X Hunter)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stepped Right In It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> <strong>“I have about a hundred cats living in me and all of them are curious” ~ Kathy Acker</strong> </em>
</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.....</p><p>The crux of femininity is that all willing and unwilling participants have this intrinsic need to be seen as hot. No woman will ever admit this, for it is a very shameful, shallow way of measuring your body. It also disgustingly unladylike. Proper ladies like denying that they masturbate or defecate.</p><p>Machi doesn't consider herself a feminist nor an example of progress. She murders people indiscriminately. While she exploits the system, it more often than not works in her favor. If ever asked, she'd say 'why yes, I do masturbate and defecate' shamelessly.</p><p>Normally she doesn't concern herself with being hot. Not only is it a problematic sliding scale of subjectivity, it has little to no function in her life. Machi is only concerned about it now because she is in the back of a cab in a short cocktail dress, checking her make up in a compact. Pakunoda had done a good job at giving her the illusion of softness. Nothing about Machi is inherently soft but her damn near nonexistent body fat. The cat wings are needle sharp. Her face isn't wet, but it looks shiny. The cab driver keeps sneaking too long glances at her in the rear-view mirror. She must look hot.</p><p>The last text message she'd received from Hisoka was <em>"I'd very much like to taste how your day went."</em></p><p>Machi never takes him seriously. Hisoka aims for reactions out of people with his bizarre behavior. At the most he gets a snicker out of her.</p><p>But she allows him to flirt with her because it does give her a shallow sense of value, in a way that murder and thievery cannot. She didn't have to earn Hisoka's attraction. It happened organically. It's the first time a 'relationship' wasn't contingent upon material value. She is only useful as long as she serves the troupe. If she stopped meeting Chrollo’s quotas, she's not so sure she'd be of much significance to him. As a matter of fact, her merit is tied up in her servitude. Which is just as superficial as being a slave to desirability.</p><p>Hisoka's unprovoked flirting doesn't serve a higher purpose.</p><p>For an assignment, the troupe had nominated her to be his partner. She got along best with him, which is debatable. Machi just knows how to tolerate his eccentricities. Pakunoda always praises her saint-like patience, which also may not be so true. Machi is habitually indifferent. Nothing bothers her. If anything, Hisoka compensates her for the services she brings. Being his 'nurse' isn't for shits and giggles. He gets himself into all sorts of gruesome, disturbing, physically traumatizing situations. How he is even alive is a greater mystery than what planet he fell from.</p><p>They'd been tasked to off somebody as a favor. Chrollo has a lot of weird rich friends with weird grudges (fetishes too). Everything is very personal with the wealthy. The political is personal. This particular weirdo deals in real estate and is upset with another weirdo who owns multiple casinos. Chrollo didn't get into the specifics. They were just instructed to kill a bunch of people and make a statement.</p><p>Machi had argued that he might not even show up, and she'd be left to do all the hard work herself.</p><p>The consensus was—<em> Of course, he will show up. He likes you the best after all</em>.</p><p>And that is a fact. It's such a sugary truth that he calls her as she is stepping out of the cab. She immediately gets a migraine.</p><p>"What are you wearing?" Is the first thing he asks.</p><p>"Skin." Machi replies woodenly. She pays the cab driver then stands alone on the clean sidewalk. Instead of being dropped off at the door, she wanted space to think about the kind of day she is about to have. The unpredictable nature of working with Hisoka would make the most maladjusted super villain sweaty.</p><p>"<em>Scandalous</em>. Just skin?" He speaks in this flat, serpentine way that is unique to him. If words were physical, his would zigzag.</p><p>"Yes. Pores. Eyelashes. Pimples..." She begins to walk, passing a long line of people waiting to get inside of dive bar.</p><p>"Freckles and birth marks?" It sounds like he is putting something in his mouth.</p><p>"Hair follicles. Nail beds." Machi already hates the way the heels make her calves feel, and she's got strong legs.</p><p>"Eyeballs too?" Hisoka sucks in a wet sounding breath, chewing in her ear. They are already engaging in permeable conversation. Machi has seen Hisoka naked so many times, she has pretty much memorized the terrain of his body. He has surprisingly soft feet and hands. <em>We do get along</em>, she supposes. It makes sense considering she knows the fluidity of his joints.</p><p>"The better to see you with, right?" Machi has a smile in her voice but her face preserves blankness. Hisoka made the startling observation once that she never laughs. Nothing is ever all that funny.</p><p>Hisoka goes silent. He does this a lot too. One moment he has a lot to say, then the next an immediate silence, like something that dies on impact.</p><p>"I don't think there's much else to see." He is chewing on gum.</p><p>"What a deeply contextual thing to say, Hisoka." Machi knows he means his body parts. She can imagine the face he is making. For someone who is very closed off, he still has a very personable, thoughtful face. Being a violent exhibitionist is how he distracts people from asking questions about himself.</p><p>"I'm not very deep. I'm actually vapid. Stupidly vapid." He pops his gum.</p><p>Machi has no clue how to respond to that. She isn't clever when it comes to double-speak. Especially when she's an explicitly unsexy, blunt person. Being stumped isn't enough to hang up in his face. She holds on to the phone, brushing back her bangs that smell like hairspray and heat protectant.</p><p>Surprisingly, Hisoka doesn't hit her with anymore of his wit. They sit on the phone in contemplative silence, breathing through their noses in each other's ear until Machi finally arrives at the casino plaza.</p><p>They intuit each other without the use of nen. It's a natural reaction two predators have towards each other when the food is plentiful. Who's going to get down to it first? Is it even a competition? Or is it all due to the cellular synchronization and brain chemistry between two kindred bodies?</p><p>Hisoka ends the call first and smiles. Machi feels the muscles twitch in her face, like a smile wants to happen, but her joy receptors are underdeveloped.</p><p>"You look like a person in a button down." It's the first thing she thinks to say. Hisoka scratches the shell of his ear with his pinky finger.</p><p>"Don't I always looks like a person?" He pretends to be offended. Machi is the expert in what he looks like in different stages of decay and restoration.</p><p>"No."</p><p>"What do I always look like to you if not a person?" He blows a big pink bubble, then pops it with his teeth. Machi cranes her neck, inspecting him, rubbing a hand on her pointy chin.</p><p>"Like a big monster." She ought to know.</p><p>"If I'm a big monster, then you're a baby monster." He suddenly looks bored.</p><p>"So be it." Machi shrugs her bony shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>....</p><p> </p><p>Machi notices that Hisoka neglects to say anything about how she looks. He comments on everything but her body, as though the noise and swell of slot machines, the smell of desperation, were far more interesting than her face. He stops chewing his gum, passing it over his teeth. Machi watches him like a cat.</p><p><em>Don't you want to taste the seat of my panties</em>? She sucks the inside of her cheeks. It's ridiculous to all of a sudden want him to obnoxiously flirt <em>at </em>her.</p><p>She is very aware of how nice he looks when he's not being flashy. She has the mind to tell Hisoka that she likes him better this way, in a normal black belt and white shirt, when he's bleeding all over her lap. Vulnerable like a peeled orange after you've impaled it with your thumbs.</p><p>"Who are we supposed to be today?" He slides another gum ball in his mouth. Machi frowns. She tugs at the string thin straps of her dress. They're standing in a long line at the cage cashier window.</p><p>"Us?"</p><p>"<em>Us</em>. That's so boring." Hisoka's jaws work harder as his wad of gum expands.</p><p>"Speak for yourself." She turns her nose up into the air. The mascara makes her eyes runny.</p><p>"You have no imagination. Machi. To be frank, none of you do. You're all so boring with the exception of Chrollo." He doesn't smack on his gum.</p><p>"Hmm." Machi's eye twitches.</p><p>"I mean, it makes sense. If you had an imagination, you wouldn't be in a cult."</p><p>"So, we're in a cult now?" She puts a hand on her hip.</p><p>"Absolutely." He smiles and looks at her out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>"You should shut your fucking mouth." The well-dressed elderly couple in front of them glowers over their shoulders. Machi had emphasized <em>fucking mouth</em> with the weight of her small body.</p><p>"All I was suggesting is that we have fun. Do you know what role-play is, Machi?"</p><p>"I'd rather die." When the line moves, she stands directly in front of Hisoka, with her back towards him so she doesn't have to suffer through his smug face.</p><p>The line continues to move at one mile an hour. Machi knots her fingers together at her stomach. She isn't going to let Hisoka distract her for the sake of 'fun' while they're on an assignment. The kills shouldn't happen in one swooping blow. Machi sees it in her head, a slow romantic slaughter, maybe they'll leave one person alive to tell about it. Her stomach does happy somersaults at the idea of leaving said lucky person blind.</p><p>Right before it is their turn at the window, Hisoka clamps a warm hand on the back of her neck. He squeezes just so, the happy swirls in her gut break loose and wreak havoc on the entirety of her body.</p><p>"I have an idea..." He whispers into her ear, swallowing his gum. "I'll behave and do whatever you say. You make the rules."</p><p>"For starters, stop talking to me. And don't touch me." She makes a tsk sound with her tongue. Hisoka keeps his word.</p><p> </p><p>.....</p><p> </p><p>Hisoka happily obliges her whims. They use his money for the chips and the drinks and the food. He is inclined to make the observation that Machi is a shitty gambler for someone with good intuition. Instead, he gives her the benefit of the doubt—she can't exactly pay attention to the cards in her hand while scanning the walls for surveillance cameras.</p><p>"Why don't these places have windows?" She mutters mostly to herself as she stares into the screen of the slot machine. There are shapes of windows in the walls but they're just mirrors reflecting the experience you're having. The bold colors swim around her face. She hunches forward with her bad posture.</p><p>"Am I allowed to speak?" Hisoka gets a hard on watching her blow through his money. She looks away from the screen. The ice in her glass of liquor tinkles in her lap. Her dress is so short, she's practically raw dogging the chair.</p><p>"Sure. Just this one time." Her eyes narrow.</p><p>"There aren't any windows, so people don't know what time of day it is. It's bad for business." Hisoka gestures at the screen. She'd lost again.</p><p>"I knew that." She does a head toss and goes back to losing more rounds on the slot machine.</p><p>"Did you?" He leans against the back of her chair.</p><p>"You should stop talking now." Machi doesn't move away when he gets rid of the distance between them.</p><p>"Sure." He mimics her robotic, noteless voice.</p><p>They're close enough to smell each other. Hisoka resists the urge to pull at a long curl of hair at the nape of her neck.</p><p> </p><p>.....</p><p> </p><p>Hisoka doesn't realize how drunk she is until she tries to stand up. She stumbles forward, but catches herself, slamming her hand down on the cushion of the chair. He makes a sound like laughter but keeps his mouth closed.</p><p>"You were just going to let me fall on my ass?" She grumbles when the rest of her drink spills on the floor.</p><p>"You told me not to touch you." Now he is grinning.</p><p>"Ok but if you were about to fall on a knife you couldn't see, I'd, at the very least, say something." Machi isn't looking at him. She is frustrated that she can't know what time of day it is and mad that she'd spent so much time staring at numbers and bananas and cherries. Her retinas feel like they're on fire.</p><p>"You wouldn't let me fall on a knife?" Hisoka is actually surprised.</p><p>Machi starts violently rubbing at her right eye with her hand, smudging her mascara.</p><p>"No. I wouldn't. You're my biggest source of income!" Then she stammers a <em>fuck</em>. She actually stomps her heel into the carpeted floor. "There's something in my eye..."</p><p>Hisoka reaches for her hand. She struggles to keep her eye open.</p><p>"Tilt your head back." His stupid smile makes her angrier, but she does what he tells her to do.</p><p>Hisoka uses his thumb and index finger to open her eye. Machi doesn't flinch. Her shoulders sag and she leans into him. A sooty tear rolls down his thumb. Without warning, he blows into her eye. More than once.</p><p>"What are you doing?" She speaks softly yet pointed.</p><p>"I don't know. This is something moms do, right?" Hisoka wanted a reason to touch her.</p><p>"I can't believe you had a mother. I bet she's so proud of you." Machi forgives him for not commenting on how good she looks. Hisoka's mirth comes up as a huff. The air from his nose tickles her face. She gets goosebumps.</p><p>"Is your mom proud of you?" Machi didn't have a mom. Her only family is the troupe. Hisoka never answers the question. He wipes at the debris of mascara around her eye. Blowing in it really didn't help. It got rid of the wetness, but her eye is still puffy.</p><p>"You ruined your makeup." He removes his hand from her face.</p><p>Machi wonders if their comfort with each other is worth mentioning.</p><p>"Not once, Hisoka, have you told me how I looked." She clicks her tongue.</p><p>"Were you expecting me to?" Hisoka blinks impassively down at her. His pupils are needle point tiny.</p><p>Of course, she did. She knows where every freckle on his body is. She has seen his body so many times, seeing his penis isn't even sexual. Machi has cradled his toes in her hands.</p><p>"Yes. I'm always commenting on your body." Machi glares at him with one eye open.</p><p>"On its functionality."</p><p>"You wanted to taste my vagina!" She says loudly. The people within close proximity flinch and grimace.</p><p>"I did." Hisoka unwraps a blue gum ball from his pocket. He isn't looking at her anymore. He focuses on twisting the plastic to preserve the rest of his gum balls.</p><p>Machi pushes herself away from him to search for a bathroom. She rubs at her eye, drunk sniffling to herself.</p><p>....</p><p> </p><p>It took Machi a while to find the restroom. Hisoka counted exactly fifteen minutes. He spotted it way before she did, but he liked watching her stumble around. She doesn't know how to walk in high heels, stabbing at the ground like a baby rhinoceros. When she reaches out to push at the door, Hisoka does the nice thing to do and opens it for her. She slides under his arm, heels making a sharp clack sound on the tile.</p><p>Machi grumbles to herself as she bends over the sink. Her dress crawls right over the slope of her behind. The closer she brings her face to the mirror, the counter pinching the fabric loosens her cleavage, freeing her nipples. He keeps his body pressed against the door with his arms folded, hands tucked under his armpits. She wets a paper towel and dabs it at her irritated eye.</p><p>"I look so fucking stupid." Machi says after a while, tossing the paper towel into the sink.</p><p>"You're not supposed to take makeup off like that." Hisoka's gum chewing is loud. He licks his lips, twists the gum over his tongue, blows another bubble, bites down on it with his teeth, and repeats.</p><p>"I know that. You think I didn't already know?" She massages her temples.</p><p>"I know you didn't know. If you did you wouldn't have rubbed the equivalent of sandpaper on your face." He isn't smiling.</p><p>"Not everyone can be as pretty and glamorous as you." Machi's stomach expands as she breathes. Hisoka counts the protrusions of each her ribs.</p><p>"You think I'm pretty?" He bites on another bubble. Machi flinches. Hisoka then realizes that Machi is aware that her dress is twisted around her body inappropriately. She just doesn't care.</p><p>"Just take the compliment and shut up."</p><p>"You don't give compliments, Machi. I'm flattered." He uses a particular tone of voice she's never heard before. Mirthless, nakedly coherent, like a person with a normal sound mind. Machi corrects her dress, tugging it back over her butt.</p><p>"Good. You should be thankful. I don't give compliments." She suppresses the petty. Machi's eye makeup is ruined, but at this point it doesn't even matter. Her looks don't change the course of the evening. The last thing a dying person is thinking about isn't their murderer's cat wing. Her ideology: my body is a symptom of having been born. Everything else is social conditioning.</p><p>Machi pulls herself together. Hisoka doesn't budge from the door.</p><p>"You want something from me." There goes the voice that she is used to. He even puts on a simper, his jaws working slowly. Machi watches the gum tumble in his mouth.</p><p>"To be spared. Some peace." Machi snaps.</p><p>"No. That's not what it is at all." He swallows the gum.</p><p>"That's not healthy. It fucks up your intestines." She stares back at him bitchily.</p><p>"You know what else isn't healthy? Being a big fat liar. Not a good starting foundation for a relationship of any kind." His pupils are large. Machi shuts her mouth, not for lack of words. There's a lot she could say—that is what he means. Silence is a perfect resolve. She won't say anything. Hisoka starts to unbutton his shirt. Machi averts her eyes when he makes it past his belly button.</p><p>"Hisoka."</p><p>"Yes." He unhooks his belt from the loop of his pants.</p><p>"Why are you taking your clothes off?" She gulps at the sound of him tugging his zipper down.</p><p>"Because you want me to fuck you but you're too shy to ask."</p><p>"I'm not shy. I have self-respect." Machi stares at trash can overflowing with paper towels. It actually smells good, not like the defecation of those who lose hours and full days here. There are fake plants coated in a layers of dust. The floors are shiny.</p><p>"It's much better if you look me in the face." Hisoka politely suggests.</p><p>Machi looks him dead in the eyes, bereft of any softness. She doesn't know how to be soft. He'd taken all of his clothes off.</p><p>"Am I allowed to touch you?" His hand hovers around the side of her face.</p><p>"Hurry up before I change my mind." A baby threat she'd never make good on. Machi wants to be desired at no consequence. Like the case of her body, lust is also a niggling side effect. She likes the unprovoked nature of this interaction. Hisoka touches the side of her neck, immediately she turns into a simple human who needs water, air, food, and sex to exist.</p><p>"May I kiss you?" His politeness feels mean now, like her sexual intelligence is being insulted. Unfortunately, she comes up short on what to say back to him. ‘Yes’ isn't sufficient enough.</p><p>"You're wasting my time if you don't." This unprovoked, compulsory intimacy causes her to close her eyes. She expects him to kiss her mouth, but he kisses the space between her eyes. Machi spreads her fingers on his abdomen. Her toes curl when he kisses down the bridge of her nose.</p><p>The case of the door being unlocked isn't solved. Machi thumbs down the straps of her dress but stays in her shoes. He lifts her onto the counter. The coldness of the surface crawls between her legs. Machi hits her head against the mirror when he holds the back of her thighs and scoots her closer to his pelvis.</p><p>"This is how people make babies." He jolts inside of her. The pressure hits her core and she easily loses her hard-girl exterior. Machi gives him this ugly unpremeditated sigh that she herself finds revolting.</p><p>"Yes." She can't exactly frown. "And the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Tell me something I don't know."</p><p>In that moment, she knows he isn't going to make this quick, painless, nor easy. The pithy sound his penis makes rolling out of her makes her shudder. Her bones melt, her limbs turn to liquid.</p><p>"People in love make babies." This is a very stupid thing to say, but she wants to feel autonomy over her good feelings, so that he can't claim ownership of her orgasm.</p><p>"Machi. That's not necessarily true." This time, he jams the length of his penis back inside of her body. She hisses—having not been conceived out love. His face is a little pink, but for the most part, he looks the same. Very certain. Confident. Free and open for interpretation.</p><p>"Why do you say my name like that?" Machi's mouth can't close. Her tinted lip gloss shimmers.</p><p>"Say your name like what?" He holds them both in place. Not moving. Really coating himself in her ripeness.</p><p>"Machi." She mimics his lightness. He says her name like a child does play-doh or candy or <em>please hug me</em>. Better yet, <em>I'm hungry please feed me</em>.</p><p>"Machi." His smirk deepens. This is tenderness.</p><p>"Machi," she says her own name again like she is begging herself off a cliff. Maybe she is.</p><p>Hisoka thinks about telling her that she looks very pretty when she isn't wearing department store menswear track suits and ball caps. She has a nice small figure. A twenty-five inch waist. She clamps her mouth shut when he bumps her cervix. Moans through her teeth like she is melting. It occurs to her that he hasn't been acting this whole time. Really, their slow fucking feels purposeful. When she presses a palm to his throat, she feels him swallowing his spit. He never stops watching her face. He'd said that he looks people in the eyes to catch them in a lie. Machi squeezes her fingers into this neck. She thinks she could severe his head.</p><p>"I could choke the shit out of you until your eyes fill up with blood. Until your skull pops like a balloon." She huffs lewdly.</p><p>"Machi. I thought we were pretending to be two well-adjusted people in love." He grins with his teeth. His breathing is also laborious, but sophisticated like he does this sort of nasty thing all the time. He lets go of one of her thighs to cup the back of her neck, so that their faces are closer.</p><p>"Making a pretend baby?" She chokes up an uncharacteristic giggle. This is going to be a very painful thing to think about later.</p><p>"Yes." His voice tightens. His breath smells like bubble gum.</p><p>"Out of wedlock?" She feels the shock of his pumps up her spine. The tips of their noses touch.</p><p>"Yes. We're unconventional." His words and spit tickle her philtrum.</p><p>Machi closes her mouth over his as a power move. He makes shocked sound from his abdomen, like it was actually quite excruciating to be kissed so fully. She folds her arms over his shoulders. It stunts his rhythm. When she wraps her legs around him, he presses a hand against the small of her back. Machi moves her hips with his. She sucks on his tongue. The kiss is messy and wet, more intimate than he'd anticipated (he's been prepared for a long time). She presses herself against his chest with this primitive need to feel the sweaty slip of his skin. The muscles in his stomach twitch.</p><p>"I knew you liked me," he says when she bites his bottom lip.</p><p>"If you nut inside of me, I will kill you."</p><p>"Our hypothetical children would be stunning." He sighs into her mouth as she drowns him in another soul sucking kiss.</p><p>"It's not a threat. It's a promise"</p><p>"Let's compromise. I will jizz in your mouth?"</p><p>"Fair."</p><p>"You really like me if you want to swallow my children."</p><p><em>I guess so</em>—Machi says in her head. He feels her clench. She digs her nails into the back of his neck. Her orgasm slithers through her body. She can feel it in her nipples, behind her eyes, in the cave of her belly button. Machi sobs it out like she's grieving. He keeps at it until he feels himself.</p><p>He withdraws and Machi slips off the cold, wet counter and wraps her mouth around his slippery penis. He runs his finger through her hair, gripping her scalp so hard her burn unravels into a silk ponytail.</p><p>Possessed by the demon of her powerful orgasm, Machi caresses his sharply defined hip bones. She sucks his penis like she is kissing his mouth until he comes. Hisoka makes a disgusting mortal sound of relief. His cool pulverized. Machi swallows every drop of his semen. .</p><p>They sit in the sound of each other's breathing. He slides his penis from her mouth. Machi remains on the floor, her weight on her cold bony knees. Hisoka runs the sink. She isn't prepared for him join her on the floor. He wipes her mouth with a wet paper towel.</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Apple-converted-space">.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I saw some cute hisomachi fan art a while ago when I wrote this. The artist's name was vr2312. I didn't mean for this turn into smut. It just sorta happened? And I guess it's not a secret anymore that I need to be in fanfic jail. Anyway thank you for reading. I miss Hisoka and Machi. Still warming up for the long fic one day. Maybe after I finish Hydrangeas.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>